My youngest, Jamie, is 17 and practically a grown-up at six feet tall. These days, I hardly see him. As a junior in high school, he juggles a job at a local grocery store, drives, has a girlfriend, hits the gym five times a week, and enjoys snowboarding and fishing. When he’s not busy, he’s either sleeping or eating. When I do manage to catch a glimpse of him, he might offer a word or two, but it’s never guaranteed. He’s like a train that has left the station, gathering speed each day, while I stand by, watching him embark on his great adventure.
Though I feel a pang of sadness, I’m also thrilled and proud to witness his journey from afar. Jamie is fiercely independent and often mentions wanting to be 18 so he can spread his wings. He even considered emancipation at one point, which was a terrifying thought for me. Thankfully, he decided to hold off since college is just around the corner.
I miss the days when I had his full attention. With his older siblings, Alex and Mia, already moved on, Jamie is my “baby,” and there’s something uniquely special about that. I find myself cherishing even the most ordinary moments with him, taking the time to savor each interaction. Time seems to slip away quickly.
Jamie rarely needs anything from me these days; a doctor’s appointment or picking up some toothpaste is about the extent of our requests. But last week, his phone broke, and I felt like I had hit the jackpot. Upset and reluctant to spend money on repairs for the second time, Jamie remembered we had insurance on his phone. I informed him that he needed the account holder—yep, that’s me—to accompany him to the carrier.
It was my lucky day! We spent time together, and as fate would have it, the line was long, and the new employee struggled to assist us. We had to return, and I was thrilled to steal another hour with him. We listened to his playlist, chatted about his siblings, and he filled me in on his job. It felt like we reconnected for the first time in ages—all thanks to a broken phone.
Our adventure continued as we were sent to a third-party repair shop, which required another drive—a 30-minute trip. I soaked in every second, sharing my playlist this time. We talked, laughed, and bonded more during the drive. When we arrived, we were told there would be an hour wait, and while Jamie was annoyed, I would have gladly waited two hours just to be by his side.
We found seats together, and I showed him a cherished photo from his 4th birthday at Disneyland. We reminisced about that day, laughing heartily as we scrolled through memories on my phone. But soon, our name was called, and I knew our special time was coming to an end. We signed the paperwork, and I was overjoyed at the thought of spending two more hours with my favorite 17-year-old.
But then came the unexpected twist: “Mom, I’ll drop you off at home. Thanks for your help. I’ll go back later to pick up my phone.” Just like that, the moment was over. I held back the urge to suggest he buy a protective case for his phone, hoping for another chance to bond.
Who would have thought that a malfunctioning phone could bridge the gap between a mom and her son? Sometimes, it takes something broken to bring people closer together. If you’re interested in more stories like this, check out this blog post.